Smoke and Mirrors
by Gmariam
Summary: As they finish their last two years at Hogwarts, the Marauders each gaze into the Mirror of Erised. And they each see something vastly different that will affect the rest of their lives.


**Author's Notes:**

This story was written for a challenge at Mugglenet Fanfiction, to accompany an illustration by EquinoxChick of Hufflepuff which depicted the Marauders gazing into the Mirror of Erised. I can only hope I have done her own thoughts and desires justice with this humble tale. The suicide warning is just for a character having brief thoughts.

_i. Sirius_

Sirius was the first to find it.

He had stumbled upon it by accident. He'd been wandering the corridors, hands stuffed in his pockets, deep in thought. Why had things gone so wrong? What had he become? He almost didn't recognize himself anymore. He had become such a different person since August, capable of things so incredibly ignorant and angry he almost wondered if he deserved to be at Hogwarts; he'd had so many detentions he probably should be kicked out.

He had been caught fighting. Again. Only this time Dante Avery had ended up in the hospital wing with a broken wrist, and James was nursing a sprained ankle from trying to step in and stop them. When Sirius finally told the Headmaster his parents couldn't care less about another owl from Hogwarts because he'd run away in August and been disowned, Professor Dumbledore had simply nodded, as if he understood. Yet that didn't excuse the downward spiral he'd been on since returning.

Sirius knew perfectly well his personal problems didn't give him the right to take them out on others, yet he sometimes couldn't seem to stop himself. He had been the one to start every fight, every time. The brief respite he had experienced while living with the Potters over the summer had not calmed his troubled soul, and two months into school still saw him angry and upset over the smallest things. His friends had tried to talk to him several times, but it hadn't helped. And they had tried to stop him, to the point of holding him back and casting Shield Charms. But the duel with Avery had been the worst yet, and James had been caught in the crossfire.

Sirius served detention all week and missed the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor against Ravenclaw. He didn't care. He probably would have ended up in trouble anyway. As he left the greenhouses, where he'd spent the morning repotting mandrakes and flutterby bushes, Sirius heard the cheering coming from the pitch but ignored it, determined to return to Gryffindor to sulk on his own.

He cleaned up and threw himself down on the bed, but the dorm felt wrong when it was so empty. He jumped up and headed to the common room instead, deciding to take advantage of the empty couches in front of the fire while he could. To his surprise, Lily Evans walked in as he sat down.

"You're finally out of detention," she stated. He nodded, too exhausted both mentally and physically to reply with a clever quip.

"Welcome back, I suppose," she said. "It's been unusually quiet around here all week without you." He gave her a slightly bitter, lopsided grin.

"And you probably loved it," he replied.

"We did," she said, barely holding back a smile. "And then it started to get boring."

Sirius shook his head. "Probably better that way." She raised a questioning eyebrow and Sirius shrugged in return. Lily Evans might be a bit of a stick-in-the-mud most of the time, but she could also be quite quick and clever, and at moments like this unusually perceptive. Sometimes he almost understood why James had asked her out so many times fifth year.

"Perhaps. At least we haven't lost any house points all week." She paused. "Are you going down to the match?"

"No, I'm just going to enjoy the peace and quiet for a bit." He put his feet out and leaned back. "I don't much feel like crowds after listening to screaming mandrakes all morning, even through earmuffs." He glanced sideways at her. "Why are you here?"

She rolled her eyes. "Prefect duty. I covered for Remus so he could watch the match. Cheer on his mates and all that."

Sirius nodded sagely. "So you're still not interested, huh?"

"In Quidditch?" she asked, confused.

"In James," he replied, unable to resist.

She actually blushed, which was unusual given her normal state of dislike for James. "Not unless he grows up. A lot."

"Then it's probably hopeless," Sirius murmured. But James finally getting to go out with Lily Evans was really the last thing on his mind, especially since he'd been hanging out with one of the fifth-year girls from Quidditch more and more and talking about Lily less and less.

Lily was silent for a while, then sat down next to him. "Is everything all right?" she finally asked. "You seem to be having a rough year so far." Sirius shrugged again; he didn't particularly feel like getting into it with Lily. They weren't that close, not like her and Remus. He wondered why she was even sitting there, talking to him; usually she claimed to hate him as much as she hated James.

"Remus told me what happened over the summer." She reached out to put her hand on his. "I'm sorry about your family."

"They're a pack of gormless gits, the whole lot of them," he replied, and he meant it.

"Maybe," she said, eyeing him sympathetically. "But it's still hard to lose someone you were close to."

He laughed bitterly. "I wasn't close to them, Evans. Why should I care?"

"They're still your family," she insisted. "And I know how hard it is to lose family, especially because you just don't get along."

He turned toward her. "You do? Little Miss Prefect doesn't have the perfect life after all?"

Instead of blowing up at him like he expected-there he was, picking a fight again-she merely raised her eyebrows once more. "You know I hate that name, Black. And yes, I do know what it's like. I've barely talked to my sister since I started at Hogwarts. She ignores me most of the holiday when I'm home. I spent half the summer with Sandra and Mary."

"Why?" Sirius found himself curious despite trying not to care.

She sighed. "She hates magic. It's as simple as that. And I've lost a good friend too, because of magic."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Not Snivellus?" he asked. Now that he thought on it, he couldn't remember seeing them together once since returning, when they'd frequently sat together in class.

"Severus." Lily pursed her lips, obviously irritated at the nickname they'd given Snape the first time they had all met. "But yes, we're no longer friends. He's chosen his path and I've chosen mine. Much like you and your family. You just have to move on, I suppose."

"I didn't just move on, I moved out," Sirius replied.

"Then why are you still so angry about it?" she asked.

"Why aren't you?" Sirius threw back.

"I was," Lily replied, looking thoughtfully into the fire. "For a long time, when I first came to Hogwarts. Or maybe more disappointed, I guess. And then again most of the summer. But I have my friends, and now I'm back where I belong." She gave him a pointed look. "And so are you. You belong here, at Hogwarts, in Gryffindor. And I know perfectly well your friends are your family. So move on. Stop picking fights about it before you get suspended-or worse, expelled."

Sirius just stared at her, surprised at her bluntness. She was right, absolutely right. He'd spent the last two months being so angry about what had happened over the summer that he'd barely had time to be grateful for what he did have: an adopted family in the Potters, a solid set of housemates in Gryffindor, and three best friends who meant the world to him. She was right: it was time to stop being angry at his own family and embrace his new one.

He was about to reply when the portrait hole opened and most of Gryffindor house started streaming in, laughing and talking. The mood was jubilant, so apparently the team had won. James would likely be changing, and Remus and Peter would probably wait on him before they all headed back to celebrate. Sirius suddenly felt the need to be alone some more, to think about what Lily had said before he faced his friends. He stood and smiled down at her.

"Evans, sometimes you are an amazingly wise and beautiful girl."

She stood with him, then waved her friends over with a grin. "And you thought I was just a stuck-up cow this whole time."

Sirius laughed and actually kissed her on the cheek. Her eyes widened in surprise. "What was that for?" she asked, thoroughly confused.

"Just a thank-you," he replied flippantly. "But I won't tell James!" He weaved his way out of the portrait hole and back into the corridors, a spring in his step that hadn't been there before. Lily Evans had somehow lifted some of the burden off his shoulders. He only hoped that the next time he saw a Slytherin it didn't all come crashing back down with the first instinctive impulse to throw a hex.

Sirius wandered the corridors, letting his footsteps take him where they would as he thought about what she had said. He had let the events of the summer get to him, and she was right: it was time to move on, to stop being angry. His family wouldn't change, and to be rid of them was for the best. He needed to be grateful for what he had. He needed to work hard and enjoy his last two years at Hogwarts rather than muddle his way through, getting himself stuck in detention every other week. He was not the angry, impetuous git he'd become; he was more, he was better.

Finding himself back in the seventh floor corridor, Sirius stopped abruptly in front of a tapestry of dancing trolls, indecisive: maybe he should find the others after all, congratulate James on the match and apologize for his behavior over the past two months, not to mention his twisted ankle. He turned around, then turned back when he realized it was probably quickest to keep walking the way he had been going and take one of the shortcuts they had found in all their nocturnal wanderings under the cloak. But to his surpise, across from the tapestry was a door he had never seen before. And his curiosity took over, because he was fairly certain it was not on the Marauder's Map, either.

Sirius opened the door and stepped into a large vaulted room. He had never seen anything like it. It stretched on an on, filled with all sorts of strange and unusual objects. He saw a set of self-setting bowling pins, and an enchanted string quartet began playing as he slowly entered the strange room. There were all sorts of tables, chairs, and cabinets; weapons of every kind; and even a large statue of some wizard Sirius was fairly certain he should recognize but didn't.

As he wandered through the room, exploring the more interesting things that stood out to him, Sirius found himself drawn deeper and deeper, until he couldn't see the entrance any longer. Ahead of him, however, he saw a glint of light, and he followed it until he came to a large ornate mirror standing next to a pile of dusty old robes and a disgusting stuffed troll. It had a golden frame with a strange engraving across the top and clawed feet. He stepped up to it, expecting to see his own reflection, but gasped when he saw something else entirely.

He was there, his reflection exactly as he was if perhaps slightly older. Yet standing next to him was James, hair mussed as usual, a grin plastered on his face. Next to him stood Peter, and on his other side stood Remus. They all looked happy and confident as they slung their arms around one another's shoulders. Behind them stood the Potters, and Peter's mother, and Remus's parents, and even Professor Dumbledore. And as he stared, transfixed at the image before him, Regulus appeared, standing to the side, aloof but present, and he nodded in acknolwedgement, as if he knew Sirius were on the other side of the mirror, gawking at him in stunned silence.

Sirius whirled around, but no one was there. Turning back to the mirror, he tried to understand. Was it the future? It obviously wasn't the past, and it certainly wasn't the present given his fallout with his brother. Was it the future as it would happen or the future as he hoped it would be? He was surrounded by his friends and their families, now his family as well, and even his brother, apparently free of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. Yes, Sirius could imagine that life: it was what he wanted, needed.

Perhaps that was it, then: the mirror showed him what he wanted, truly wanted, deep in his heart. A real, loving family. He smiled and reached out to touch the glass. James grinned back. The Potters waved. Professor Dumbledore gave a sort half bow, and Regulus rolled his eyes, likely in disgust at the blatant displays of affection from them all. So the mirror was in character, then.

Backing away, Sirius watched and thought and gazed some more into the rippling glass. This was truly what he wanted. And he had it, he had just forgotten. Well, he had everything but his brother: Regulus was still trapped, still bound to the family, to his blind beliefs and fervent desire to become a Death Eater. But for some reason the mirror gave Sirius hope. Even though it didn't show him the future, there was still the small chance that his brother might join _him _someday instead of Voldemort, and the vision would indeed be real and complete. Seeing it in the mirror made it feel possible. And if he lost hope or forgot to value what he did have, he could always come back to this strange, wonderful room, and gaze into the mirror, and find all he needed.

_ii. Remus_

Trudge was the best word for it, really. He was trudging. He had been trudging all day. It took all his effort to put one foot in front of the other and force himself forward-to class, to dinner, to the library and back to the common room. He almost collapsed on the sofa before he remembered he'd left a book he needed in the library. With a groan, he turned and headed back through the portrait hole, almost crashing into Sirius bounding in.

"Hey, Moony," he exclaimed, putting out a hand to steady them. "Where are you off to?"

"Left my stupid Potions book in the library," Remus grumbled as he started down the corridor. "Hopefully I'll make it there and back without collapsing in the corridor like a slug. I still have three feet to go on that bloody essay Slughorn's torturing us with."

Sirius came up beside him. "I'll go with you, I'm finished." His far-too-cheerful mood grated on Remus's exhausted nerves even more.

"Good for you," he muttered. "But some of us still have work to do."

"Are you all right?" he asked. "You seem awfully tense about a simple essay. Did something happen?"

"Yes, that inevitable celestial event known as the full moon," Remus retorted, not meaning to snap but far too exhausted to care. "You were there, remember?"

"That was two days ago." Sirius frowned. "Was it stronger than usual?"

Remus shook his head, at a loss for words. No, full moons didn't vary in their intensity: he turned into a werewolf no matter what. And running through the forest with his friends was far better than the despair he had experienced for years in the Shrieking Shack, alone with the scratching and biting. But for some reason, staying out all night on top of the incredible amount of N.E.W.T. work he had seemed to be wearing him down more and more. He felt older, though he had just come of age. He was always tired, always behind, always overwhelmed. And he blamed that full moon for making it ten times worse, when in reality it was only one night a month.

"I'm sick of it," he said, surprising himself. It was something he thought every month but rarely voiced. He simply wasn't the whining type, but sometimes it was just too much, and apparently this was one of those times. "I can't stand it anymore, Padfoot. The change, the long night, the recovery-all on top of school work and prefect duties. I just want a normal life. I want to be normal tired and overwhelmed instead of…" He waved his arms about. "This. My life. I'm sick of it," he repeated.

Sirius was silent for a long time as they walked. Remus knew Sirius was probably not the best one of his friends to deal with one of his rare foul moods, but again it just couldn't be helped. Sirius was there. And even if he listened and didn't say a word, that was good enough. At least Remus could vent his frustrations to someone. To his surprise, Sirius cleared his throat and spoke.

"I'll get your book later. Let me show you something, first." He grinned, but it was not the grin he used when he was about to pull something; it was more sincere, and in spite of his exhaustion, Remus shrugged and followed him.

They walked back up to the seventh floor corridor. Sirius was mostly quiet, which was unusual. Normally he would have prattled on and on when trying to cheer someone up. Then again, he had settled down remarkably well over the past few months. Remus hadn't docked him points for fighting in ages, and Sirius actually turned in most of his schoolwork. On time. After a rough start to the year, he had finally seemed to put aside his anger. He had matured.

Remus shook his head, slightly amused at the though of a mature Sirius Black. It hardly seemed possible. And really, it wasn't quite the case: Sirius had still pulled a prank or two, and Remus knew he had some big plans for April Fool's Day. He'd only had the occasional light fight with Slytherin, though, so something had changed. Remus wondered what it was.

They stopped in front of an old tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Sirius walked back and forth a bit, as if he were looking for something. Then he stopped and grinned.

"There we go," he said, pointing to a door Remus was sure hadn't been there before. "After you."

"What is it?" Remus asked, and he couldn't help but let the suspicion come out in his voice.

"Not sure, exactly," Sirius replied, following him inside. Remus stopped at the threshold with a gasp. "Sometimes it's here, sometimes it's not. Which is probably why it's not on the map."

"But what is all this stuff?" Remus murmured as he slowly started to walk around. The room was one of the largest in the castle, and crammed with an unimaginable number of random items. He almost couldn't wrap his mind around it, a room that wasn't always there, packed with so much junk. There were books everywhere, broken cauldrons and potions flasks, and even a chess set playing on its own to his right.

"I think it's a collection of the ages," Sirius joked. "Everything anyone has ever lost or hid at Hogwarts, from the very beginning." He picked up a rusty old sword. "I mean, this has to be Founders Era for sure."

Remus nodded in stunned amazement. "This is amazing. How did you find it?"

"I was just walking by, trying to decide which way to go one day, when the door appeared." He slashed through the air with the sword a bit, then placed it carefully back where he had found it. "You have to walk back and forth in front of that tapestry three times, at least. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't."

"Brilliant. When did you discover it?" Remus asked, and Sirius coughed in embarrassment.

"Actually, I found it back in October," he muttered, turning away. Remus raised his eyebrows.

"And you're just telling us now?" he asked.

"I'm telling _you_," Sirius replied. "I haven't shown the others."

"Why?" asked Remus, puzzled and curious and strangely glad at the same time.

Again Sirius just shrugged as he led the way toward the back. "You seemed like you needed it. There's something I want you to see."

They continued past mountains of lost trinkets, large and small, broken and whole. Finally Sirius stopped in front of a large mirror. His whole body seemed to relax as he gazed into it, and Remus was certain there was some sort of magic at work, just from the look on his friend's face: content, even happy. He stepped up next to Sirius, wondering what he would see.

He saw himself.

He looked exactly as he did at that moment, right down to his trainers. But as Remus looked closer into the mirror, he noticed that he was not, in fact, in the same room, but standing outside on the lawn before the castle. It was dark and above his shoulder hung a brilliant full moon…only he wasn't transforming.

He wasn't a werewolf.

Remus sucked in a breath and stepped backward. His reflection winked at him. Together they gazed up at the sky, and Remus felt his heart pounding at the very thought of ever being able to gaze on the full moon without transforming into a hideous beast. It wasn't possible. Why had Sirius brought him there?

"What is this?" he asked, turning away and hoping Sirius didn't see the tears in his eyes. "Why did you show me this?"

Sirius frowned as he gazed at the ornate edges of the mirror. "I don't know exactly what it is, but it's magical. Powerful magic. As near as I can tell, it shows you what you want to see. I can't make out the words, though."

Remus glanced up at the frame, avoiding looking at the glass. He saw the words: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._

"It's not the future, not exactly anyway," murmured Sirius. He was standing next to Remus. "And I'm guessing we don't see the same things, because I see all of us together and I don't think you do."

Remus swallowed and looked away. He shook his head. "I don't see anyone else, no. But I think you're right. The inscription is just backwards: _I show not your face but your heart's desire."_

"Ah," said Sirius. "I won't ask what you see then."

Remus wanted to ask what Sirius saw as well, but thought better of it. Instead, he repeated his question from earlier. "Why did you bring me here?"

"When I first looked into the mirror, it gave me hope. You might remember I was a bit of a mess in the autumn." Remus nodded and Sirius continued. "What I saw helped me realize some things. I thought maybe it could do the same for you, help you out."

"With what, hope?" When Sirius nodded, Remus couldn't help but laugh bitterly. "Then you really don't know me that well, do you? There is no hope for what I want, Padfoot." He turned and started from the room. "But thanks anyway. You should share this with the others. They'd probably get a kick out of it."

He heard Sirius sigh behind him and felt bad, but was again too overwhelmed to worry about it right then. He just wanted to get out and never look into the mirror again. His deepest desire was to be free of his curse, but it could never happen. He couldn't find hope in the mirror; he saw only an endless future of painful transformations, month after month.

And just as he had been in the mirror, he would be alone.

_iii. James_

The door slammed shut as she left, and James lashed out at the nearest chair, kicking it hard enough to send it crashing over backward. He thought about pulling out his wand and blasting a few holes in the sofa as well, but a sound behind him made him whirl. Fortunately, it wasn't Lily; he didn't know what he'd do if she saw him so upset now. It was Remus, and he was eyeing the upended chair with his head titled.

"Not very comfortable, then?" he asked lightly. James laughed through his nose and shook his head. He picked it up and gathered his things.

"It's rubbish," he finally answered. "Probably needs to be chucked for something new."

Remus nodded sagely as they left the prefects' lounge. "Or maybe it just needs more time to get comfortable."

James glanced sideways. "I think it's had plenty of chances. It's time for a new chair."

"We're not really talking about chairs, are we?" asked Remus, unable to hide a small grin. James rolled his eyes.

"I was, but I don't think you are," he replied.

"I take it you had it out again?" Remus asked.

"No, not really. I _asked_ her out again." James sighed. "And she said no. Again."

"Hence chucking the chair for something new?" asked Remus.

"We've been getting along great, Moony. And yet I've asked her out three times, and she keeps patting my arm and saying no." James waved his hands in the air. "I don't know what else I have to do to get her attention-in a good way. So maybe it's time I moved on."

"Again," murmured Remus with a small smile.

"Yes, again." James gave a rueful laugh. "I had a good time with Cynthia last year, but there's just something about Evans, especially now that we're always working together." He stopped and shrugged. "It's sad and pathetic, I know. So it's over. That's the last time I'll try and sit on that chair."

Remus laughed softly. "If that's what you want. There are plenty of other chairs at Hogwarts. You don't always have to come back to the same one."

"I know," said James. "And I haven't. But this year…I really thought…" He trailed off, not sure what to say, or how to articulate his jumbled thoughts. He'd spent most of fourth and fifth year badgering Lily Evans to go out with him, until he'd finally given up and focused on other things: Sirius had moved in with him, N.E.W.T classes had got much harder, and he'd been forced to take over as Quidditch Captain. Lily had seemed different as well, distant even, and sixth year had seen them rarely interacting as they each went their separate ways. He'd dated Cynthia Morris most of the year, and Lily had gone to Hogsmeade with a few different guys, and that was that.

And then they were thrown back together on the Hogwarts Express in September, both of them wearing a shiny Head badge. Lily's shock had been almost as great as his own, but she had actually accepted it fairly quickly. Oh, they'd fought the first few weeks as they each tried to find their footing in their new positions, but now they'd settled into a very comfortable, very familiar friendship…and James once again wanted it to be more.

But this time he _meant_ it. This time he wasn't just the arrogant toerag stringing up slimy Slytherins for fun. He was responsible and wanted a mature relationship. Cynthia had been great, but ultimately they had parted as friends, knowing it had lasted as long as it could. With Lily he felt that extra spark, that little flip in his gut every time he was with her that was something more, something serious, something he knew could last much, much longer. But obviously she didn't feel it, since she'd turned him down every time he'd asked her to give him another chance.

"But what?" Remus finally asked. "Do you like her that much that you'll keep trying, until we finish school? Is that how you want to spend your last year, pining over something you can't have?"

James glanced sharply at him. "What do you mean?" he asked, although he had some idea of what Remus was getting at.

"If you really think it's never going to happen with Lily, move on. Accept it." He laughed in that slightly bitter way he'd developed over the last year. "There are things I'd like that will never happen, but I finally realized that letting myself be tied to them would only hold me back from enjoying other things. I didn't want to be bitter and unhappy all the time-do you?"

James thought about it. "I don't know, Remus. Everytime she says no, I tell myself the same thing: move on. And then the next meeting rolls around, and she's there next to me and I can smell her shampoo, and I can't forget about it. I don't know what to do anymore."

Remus nodded as if he understood and led them down the seventh floor corridor. He paused, staring thoughtfully at an old tapestry on the wall. He turned around and then came back.

"Come with me," he practically ordered, and James noticed a door across from the tapestry that hadn't been there earlier. Remus motioned over his shoulder and walked through. James followed and stopped short as he stepped into a room bigger than the Great Hall and filled with an indescribable amount of stuff. Or rather, junk-mixed with a bit of treasure.

"What in the world is this place?" he asked, gazing around with his mouth open. "It's not on the map, that's for sure."

"We tried to add it, it won't take," said Remus. "It's the Come and Go Room, the Room of Requirement."

James stared at him. "You found it? My dad told me about it once, only he said it was just a myth, a legend."

Remus motioned to the piles around him. "Here it is. Sirius found it last year."

"And he didn't tell us?" asked James. He was poking at various items stacked around the entrance-books, paintings, an ancient set of gobstones. "When did you find out?"

"He showed me last year," Remus shrugged. "Thought I should see something. Now I think you should. Follow me."

"Yes, sir," James murmured under his breath. He always found it slightly amusing when Remus asserted himself. Usually he was content to remain strong and steady in the background, almost preferring to let James or Sirius take the lead in whatever they happened to be up to. Now, however, he had the upper edge, as James simply followed him along the aisles, through towering piles of belongings, surely stacked there since the castle's first days.

"Are you sure you'll be able to find whatever it is? There must be thousands of things in here," murmured James. A suit of armor with one arm missing stood nearby, a Gryffindor shield at its feet. What sort of wizard wore armor into battle? Or had it been a Muggle? Had he lost his whole arm, or just the armor?

"Yes," said Remus. "I've been back a few times. It's helped me accept things a bit better. I thought maybe it might help you." He stepped into a small clearing, in the middle of which stood a large, ornate mirror carved with strange words.

"A mirror?" James asked skeptically. "There's one up in the dorm, you know. It's always telling me my hair is mussed up."

"This is different," said Remus. He seemed to be deliberately not gazing into the glass. "It shows you what you want, not what you are."

James gave him a confused look. "What do you mean, what you want?"

"It's called the Mirror of Erised. It shows you your heart's most innermost desire."

"How?" asked James, slightly wary of stepping forward for some reason. Remus shrugged.

"Don't know. Powerful magic. Some sort of spell that must reach into your mind and reflect back your thoughts instead of your image. I thought maybe if you had a look, you'd know whether or not to wait for that chair to get comfortable."

"Are you serious?" James asked before he could stop himself. Remus just grinned and motioned him forward.

Taking a deep breath, James stepped nervously in front of the mirror. He looked up from the floor to gaze into the glass, and was dumbfounded by what he saw there.

He saw himself, but different, somehow. His glasses were still there, though he often hated having to wear them; his hair was still messy, no matter how hard he tried to make it lie down flat. He looked much the same as he did in his own mirror everyday, but…better. More content. Complete. Was that it?

As he frowned at his reflection, trying to understand, a second form materialized next to him in the glass. Long auburn hair, brilliant green eyes, and a soft smile gazed back at him as Lily Evans took his hand. His mirror self turned and kissed her on the cheek, and she returned the kiss, laying her head on his shoulder with another smile.

They grew older: their robes became wedding clothes, and a crowd of people celebrated behind them, including their closest friends. A house appeared, and a child, and then another, and even a dog that looked remarkably like the small terrier he remembered from his earliest childhood. There was no war, no Voldemort: he saw a life that was safe and secure-a life with Lily.

The family pet faded away as the children grew older. Lines appeared on their own faces, but still they held hands and smiled, even as their hair turned grey. James felt his breath catch as he realized how much he wanted everything he had just seen: he wanted Lily. He couldn't deny it, couldn't stop trying and move on, couldn't accept it as something that would never be. He loved her, and the mirror showed him that with such clarity it was almost painful. He rather hoped Remus couldn't see it as well.

Shaking his head, James stepped back and ran a hand across his eyes to put the strange vision from his mind, to try and clear his thoughts. He didn't know what to say, but Remus spoke first.

"Pretty powerful, yeah?" he said softly. He was standing to the side, still avoiding the mirror. James merely nodded as he too moved away from the glass and toward his friend. "Did you see anything…helpful?"

James gave him a lopsided grin. "Helpful? You could say that, I suppose. I'm not giving up. Will it turn out the way I saw things? I don't know, but I have to keep trying. I love her."

Remus clapped him on the shoulder as they made their way toward the door. "Then keep trying and I'm sure you'll find your heart's desire somehow."

"What about yours?" James asked, more curious than considerate. "You said you gave up on yours, but you're telling me to go after mine."

Remus gave him a sad look. "You can get a date with Lily, Prongs. I'll always be a werewolf."

James stopped in his tracks, his sudden high just as quickly snuffed out by his friend's sad confession. Once again he didn't know what to say, and once again Remus did.

"It's all right," he said softly. "I was angry at first, but I've accepted it. Maybe sometime I'll look again and see if things haven't changed a bit inside." He shrugged and continued walking. "But I don't think yours is going to change, James. You know that now, so just make it happen."

"How?" It was a simple question, but the answer was something he obviously hadn't figured out yet.

"I don't know," said Remus as they stepped back into the corridor. "But Lily Evans will go out with you. I really believe that now."

And somehow, after looking into the mirror and seeing her next to him, James believed it as well.

_iv. Peter_

The cool breeze drifting through the window did little to calm his restless spirit. He hadn't really expected it to, but the common room was too crowded, and the Charms book he'd been reviewing had been too dull to read on his bed: he'd dozed off at least three times before heading toward the window niche to let the air wash over him, wake him, and calm him.

One week until exams and still he felt like he was floundering in half his classes. He couldn't possibly pass. He'd leave Hogwarts with half the number of N.E.W.T.s as his friends and be lucky to find the lowest of jobs in the real world. He dreaded it. Every day his stomach twisted into tighter and tighter knots. James and Sirius and even Remus, who worked so hard, all seemed nervous to some degree, but Peter was fairly certain they weren't vomiting in between classes from anxiety. Or daydreaming of ways to escape the exams. They studied, they knew the material, they would do well. They had a future. Peter had nothing.

He ran his hands through his hair as he felt the beginning of another panic attack. His thoughts were racing as fast as his heart, and clenching his fingers to his head kept his hands from shaking. Shutting his eyes, he actually wondered what it would be like to let himself fall and topple through the window, floating through the air free of all the horrible, horrible feelings overwhelming his mind: the fear, the guilt, the shame. He reached out a tentative hand, letting the night air flow across his skin as he fought the impulse to just relax and…

"Pete!" called a voice from the dorm behind him. Peter turned in surprise, knocking his Charms book over the ledge and sending it plunging toward the ground below. He sighed in frustration and longing: he wanted to hurl after it, but suddenly James was there, dragging him back in, forcing his feet to the floor.

"What the hell, Pete!" he exclaimed, his face white. "I thought you were going to fall out for a minute there."

"Should have let me," Peter grumbled as he brushed off James's hand and started toward the door. "I could have got my book back quicker."

He could feel his friend's shock at his statement as he stormed out of the dormitory. As tempting as it was to let his book lie in the mud forever, he also didn't feel like staying in the dorm and talking, so he might as well go after it. At least he could be alone, have a meltdown by the lake or something.

But James followed him, not saying a word as Peter stomped through the common room and out the portrait hole. James followed him through the shortcuts down to the first floor, still silent. As they entered the Great Hall, Peter finally turned to him. "You don't have to follow me anymore. I'm fine."

James shook his head. "No, you're not. I think you could use some company."

"So I don't throw myself in the lake or something?" he grumbled as they left the grounds and skirted the perimeter of the castle. Peter avoided James's face, instead keeping his eyes to the ground as they neared Gryffindor Tower, searching for his fallen book.

"Why, are you considering it?" asked James.

Peter snorted as he bent down to pick it up. "Maybe."

James was silent again as they started back to the castle. "It's not that bad, Pete. One more week and it'll all be over."

"What, N.E.W.T.s?" asked Peter, not bothering to hide the bitterness from his voice. "Then what? Then we're out of school, but what do I do then with whatever paltry number of N.E.W.T.s I barely manage to take with me?"

James appeared taken aback by his venom. Peter waved him off and turned instead toward the lake. "Go inside, Prongs. I need to be alone."

James took his arm. "Wait. Come on, you should talk about it. What's wrong? It's more than exams bothering you, I can tell."

"It's _everything_," Peter exploded. "I'm going to fail half my exams and then what? Hope I find a dead-end job doing sludge work for some arrogant prat before I end up killed by Death Eaters just for being a Gryffindor who doesn't believe in their pureblood insanity?"

"First of all, you're not going to get killed in the war," James said, and he sounded like he really believed it. "Second of all, you won't fail your exams. Which means you're not going to end up in some dead-end job either. What do you _want_ to do?"

Peter paused, and James took the opportunity to firmly guide him back inside. Peter let him, thinking. He hadn't really considered what he wanted to do, mostly because he spent most of his time dreading the future regardless of what happened. He had rarely thought constructively past N.E.W.T.s. He just wanted to survive the rest of the year before life outside Hogwarts hit him square in the face with reality.

"I don't know," he finally admitted. They started up the staircase back toward Gryffindor. "I've been too worried about N.E.W.T.s to really give it much thought."

James gave him a thoughtful look, then nodded. "Follow me. I've just the thing."

"Prongs, I need to figure out this Charms theory," Peter said, trailing after him, like always. And as usual, James would hear no argument, he just waved his hand over his shoulder, probably rolling his eyes with that grin that drove Peter mad half the time.

"Trust me. You need to see this. It's brilliant."

Peter grumbled under his breath as they walked up to the seventh floor. He thought they were heading back to Gryffindor, until James stopped, turned, and walked back again.

"Welcome to the Room of Requirement," he said, gesturing grandly at a rather simple door in the wall across from an ugly tapestry. "I believe you require something inside."

Peter gave him the most skeptical look he could muster, although he was secretly somewhat interested; anything that kept him from going back to studying couldn't be that bad.

James entered the room and nodded in satisfaction as Peter stepped in and gasped in astonishment. It was the biggest room he'd ever been in, and it was filled floor to ceiling with all sorts of things he'd never seen. The sheer vastness of it almost stopped him in his tracks, but James set off determinedly through the scattered aisles of objects that must have lain there for hundreds upon hundreds of years.

He finally stopped in front of a large mirror and stepped up to it. His eyes practically glowed with excitement behind his glasses as he touched the mirror; for some reason Peter had the feeling he was seeing more than just his reflection.

"What is it?" Peter asked, almost whispering.

"It's a magic mirror," said James, moving away. "Remus brought me here a while back. It shows you whatever you want most in the world."

"Can't imagine what you saw," Peter murmured sarcastically, and James shrugged without embarrassment.

"I did see her, and it gave me the motivation to keep trying. Step up. Maybe you'll feel better after you look-see things a bit clearer, know what it is you really want to do."

"Or maybe I'll feel worse," Peter said, "because it'll show me what a tosspot I am."

James frowned. "You're not a tosspot, Pete."

"I'm not Head Boy, prefect, top of the class, or a Quidditch star either," Peter replied. "Nor do I have the courage, strength, or cleverness of you, Moony, and Padfoot. I'm just another seventh-year about to fail and go into the world with no job, no girlfriend, no money, nothing."

James seemed somewhat gobsmacked at Peter's remark, and truth be told, it probably sounded completely nonsensical to him. It was something Peter had struggled with constantly, though, but something he'd usually been able to shrug off or hide. But now it was finally wearing him so thin here at the end that he couldn't help but let it out. James finally shook his head, as if denying the harsh words.

"You're a good friend, Peter. You've stood by Remus since the beginning. You work harder than just about anyone I know, almost killing yourself trying to get that Animagus transformation." He paused and nodded, as if he were thinking aloud as he spoke. "You're brave enough to follow along with most of our crazy schemes, and been clever enough not to get caught when sometimes we did. And you've always been able to figure things out in the end-so I know you'll figure this out. Look into the mirror. You might be surprised at what you see."

Peter was touched James's sincerity, and yet at the same time it rang hollow. It still felt as if his own words were just as true as what James had said, and so they negated each other and left him with nothing. As usual. He stepped up to the mirror with nothing to lose.

As he expected, he saw himself. But he was taller, thinner, and prouder. His nose was slightly straighter, his eyes a bit more bright, his hair dark and stylish. He appeared strong, like a man who knew his way with a wand and had the confidence to use it. He looked like a leader, in charge and respected.

Of course that was what he wanted. It made sense: the weakest of his pack, he craved the alpha position. He knew it, had always known it, but it would never happen. What good was it doing him to gaze longingly at something that he could never be? Yet as he watched, he felt a hollow feeling begin to grow in the pit of his stomach-a combination of desire and dread.

James appeared behind him, somehow smaller and weaker, his inner fire dimmed. Sirius, too, appeared, looking almost frail compared to the strong, confident Gryffindor he was now. Remus seemed unchanged, but sadder, as if he knew and understood something Peter did not.

Behind them appeared others: dark, faceless forms whispering to him, fearing and worshipping him, even encouraging him. What were they encouraging him to do? He couldn't understand them, but he knew there was something wrong. They were evil, these shadowy figures. He didn't really want this, did he? His friends, vulnerable and weak? Faceless shadows worshipping his newfound strength?

No-no, he couldn't. James had just said he was a good friend, loyal and brave and hardworking. He didn't want to see his friends become less because of him. He didn't want to be feared and worshipped did he? Of course not…but he did wish he were more than them at times, and with that silent admission his stomach clenched and he bit back the vomit in his throat. He tore himself away from the mirror with a gasp of shame and turned his back on it. He glared at James.

"What's wrong, Wormy?" James asked, using the nickname Peter had hated for years. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm not like that," Peter said, an edge to his voice that hadn't been there before. James seemed to notice as well.

"Like what?" he asked. "What did you see?"

"None of your damn business," Peter snapped. "But for the record, I'm not like that. And I'm not what you said I am, either. I'm just Peter Pettigrew, trying to survive." He turned and left the mirror behind, trying to believe in his words, yet knowing it was futile. The mirror had shown him a vision in which he had fallen to the point where he was willing to sacrifice almost anything to be more than he was. And he hated that about himself more than anything else-even failing.

"You will," James murmured, following him out. "You'll be all right, Pete. I know you will. You'll survive."

Peter ignored him as he left the Room of Requirement. He'd just been shown something he had not wanted to see, and learned something about himself he was ashamed to know: he would survive, because he had not only seen what it could be, but he had seen the price he'd have to pay.

And deep down, he knew that someday he would be willing to finally pay it.

**End Notes:**  
Many thanks to Acacia Carter for looking this over, I appreciate your suggestions and support! And to Carole for the drawing. Thank you for reading and reviewing, I do hope you enjoyed this look at what they might have seen.


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